


Tratiorous Feelings

by Saelryth



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-13 05:19:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18462284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saelryth/pseuds/Saelryth
Summary: A traitor in Skyhold places the entire operation in danger. It's up to Blackwall and the Inquisitor to catch him, while struggling with their feelings towards each otherPre- Revelations.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Pre-Revelations for some angst.   
> Might be slightly OOC for Blackwall, please forgive me. I wrote this in one night.   
> Story is completed, but I will upload chapters as soon as I'm able to fix the formatting.   
> Hooe you enjoy. Xoxo   
> -Sael

The smell of hay and horses permeated the air late one night as Lavellan entered the stables, searching for Blackwall, who preferred the stables to his own rooms for some reason.  
Perhaps it was the solitude that brought the seasoned warrior here, but perhaps it was something else entirely. Musing on the reasons why, Lavellan closed the large door behind herself, so as not to let the chill of Skyhold’s winter nights affect the warm warhorses.  
Looking around, she saw no sign of Blackwall, and shook her head, as she made to climb the ladder into the hayloft.   
There, she found him, a blanket draped over his broad shoulders, holding a flagon of what she could only assume was ale in his hands, peering out of the slightly open window in front of him, his breath coming out in puffs.  
“Blackwall?” She asked softly, cocking her head slightly to one side.  
He turned his head, not surprised to see her.   
“My lady,” his deep voice rumbled as he stood in her presence.  
She held a hand up, slightly frustrated with this show of formality from one of her most trusted men.  
“You don’t have to be so proper, Blackwall.” Lavellan admonished gently.  
He met her gaze with his own blue-grey one, steady and strong. “Yes, I do.”  
She opened her mouth to protest, but he shook his head. “Maker, my lady, you don’t understand. Every man, woman and child here is in your debt for saving their skins and bringing them to safety. We all owe you that much, at least.”  
Lavellan smiled. “But I didn’t save you, if you’ll remember. You saved me.”  
Blackwall looked away for a moment. “yes,”he murmured. “I suppose.”  
Lavellan brushed off his cryptic remark to step closer to him. “When we’re in private, you don’t have to call me by anything other than my name.”  
He looked back at her quizzically. “There is no private for you, my lady. Always someone watching.”  
She sighed in exasperation. “When we’re alone I mean.”  
An odd look came over him for a split second before he moved back to the window, his back to her.  
“Alone, my lady? Do you intend to be alone with me often?”  
Lavellan was quite taken aback. “Is it so strange that I would seek out your company, Blackwall?”  
He whirled around, piercing her with a hard look.  
“Yes, absolutely.” He snapped. “Think of your position, my lady. They,” he waved his hand towards the door, “-They need you out there. They need your power and your authority. They deserve your attention, and much more than I do.” He finished sadly.  
“Maker, listen to you!” Lavellan cried, trying not to ball her hands into fists. “You sound like them! Am I not still a person? I’m not just some symbol, Blackwall,” she pleaded, “I’m a woman with hopes and dreams of my own, and I’m a woman who needs time to herself, away from the people who rely on me. I need company and companionship.”  
“So you come to the stables looking for it?” He spat.   
“What is so wrong in seeking your company?” She hissed back.  
“Everything!” Blackwall roared at her, causing Lavellan to step back in shock.   
His shoulders sagged, and he ran a hand through his long dark hair.   
“You don’t belong here, my lady. Not with an old, broken soldier.” He lifted his eyes to hers.  
“Goodnight, my lady.”  
Lavellan stood in shock, a million responses running through her head, a million questions.   
But his dismissal of her rang out in her head loudly as she opened her mouth to speak.   
Blackwall again turned away towards the window.  
No response that formed in her mind would satisfy, so eventually, she closed her mouth, turned and climbed back down the ladder.  
“Good night,” she hissed angrily to the darkness as she opened the stable doors and walked out, slamming it behind her.

 

Three weeks had passed since the night he had turned her away, and three weeks he had remained in the stables, not venturing into the keep except in the dead of night for a change of clothes.   
He had thrown himself into his carvings, but had thrown away more unfinished blocks of wood than ever before, and had used more bandages for his hands than ever before, oftentimes losing himself in thought, and cutting himself as consequence for his absent focus.   
It was early one morning when a manservant entered the stables, his nose wrinkled at the surroundings, eyeing the wrappings on Blackwall’s hands and fingers with distaste.  
“My Lord Warden,” The man said in a pinched voice. “My lady Herald requests your presence in the war room this morning.” He shifted uncomfortably. “And she says…” He trailed off, clearly not willing to repeat his mistress’ words.  
“She says what?” Blackwall crosses his arms, his brow furrowing in an expression sure to intimidate the man in front of him.  
“S-she says she will brook no argument. It is an order, not a request.”  
“Very well.” Blackwall nods, trying not to lose his temper. For a soldier used to taking orders, he hated taking them from her, not when she normally treated her inner circle with respect and equality, not with demands.  
But, he supposed as he climbed the stairs into the keep, after that exchange in the stable, she probably had every right to order him around.

Blackwall was late. The others had assembled, with Cullen, Josephine and Leliana murmuring quietly in a corner of the room, and the others carrying on hushed conversations of their own as they waited.   
Lavellan paced in front of the large table covered with maps and small metal markers, occasionally glancing at the door, her heart in her throat. She hadn’t enjoyed sending him an order, but knew if she didn’t, that he may not show up. Now, she worried that he still wouldn’t come, even having been ordered to do so.  
So when the great doors finally groaned open and Blackwall stepped in, freshly bathed and dressed in one of his more proper tunics, Lavellan was both relieved and annoyed with him. Emotions stirred and bubbled back up from that night in the stables, but she stamped them deep down, trying to focus on hand.  
“Blackwall,” she bit out. “Please have a seat.”  
He nodded wordlessly, and took a chair away from the others, earning him queer looks from Sera, and an anguished one from Cole, which did not go unnoticed from the Inquisitor and her advisors.   
“I’ve called you here to discuss a matter of dire importance,” Lavellan started, finally standing still at the center of the table, arms braced on the dark wood, gaze locked on the map in front of her.  
“Venatori have infiltrated Skyhold. A number of documents went missing in the last month, and we have reason to believe it was a man named Goreg, employed here as a stablehand.” Her eyes flicked to Blackwall, whose face remained impassive.  
“It is imperative that we get those documents back as quickly as possible. To that end, the advisors and I have discussed a plan to capture him, but it will require all of us. Leliana.”  
The red haired spymaster bowed slightly before speaking.   
“We have reason to believe that Goreg has escaped to one of four locations,” She gestured to the map. “Our plan is to split into groups and travel to each of these locations in search of him. There is no mistaking some of us as members of the Inquisition,” Somewhere in the back of the room, Bull snorted. Leliana ignored him. “But for some of us, we can escape detection in these villages. I have sent word ahead to our allies to keep quiet should any of us be seen in the vicinity, lest our target flee before we are able to capture him. Cullen.”  
Rutherford nodded and stepped forward.   
“We will split into four groups. Each group will be tasked with finding Goreg as quickly and as quietly as possible, and to see if he has passed the documents on. If he still has them, bring them back. If not, Leliana’s spies will be easily found. Send word, and we will regroup and assault the Venatori as soon as possible.”

Blackwall could hardly believe his ears. Goreg? The man who had lost his wife and child to a Venatori attack, turn traitor? He said as much as soon as Rutherford had his say.  
The room went quiet and all eyes turned towards him.   
“Blackwall, are you sure?”Josephine asked, her eyes locked on his as she set her writing aside.  
“Aye, my lady.” he nodded. “Goreg told me himself when he first moved to SKyhold, some three months back. The Venatori took his wife and child from him, dragged them away kicking and screaming before his eyes while the rest of the village fled.”  
“What did they want with a common woman and a child?” Dorian asked.  
Blackwall shrugged. “‘S a good question, but one I’ve got no answer for. Could be they needed slaves. Goreg though, he thought they were to be used as sacrifices in some black ritual.”  
“Do you think he is being forced to work in order for the return of his family?”Leliana asked.  
“Might be,” Blackwall admitted. “He did start to act funny the last month I saw him. Said he was moving to live with a cousin near the Storm Coast. “  
“That’s true,” Josephine nodded. “Paperwork did cross my desk some weeks ago. A man employed in the stables requested severance to move in with an ailing family member near the Coast. It was granted.”  
“Perhaps he was using it as cover,” Lavellan suggested. “Perhaps his real plan was to steal these documents and then leave with them, us none the wiser to his plans.”  
Blackwall snorted. “Not Bloody likely,if you ask me,”  
“No one did ask you, Warden.” Lavellan snapped, earning shocked looks from many in the room.  
“Did he head towards the Storm Coasts, according to your spies, Lady Leliana?” Vivienne asked.  
“Not according to the report. It is some miles away from the nearest village that my spies found any evidence of him in. All of the locations we have reports of him are to the South-west of Skyhold, not the North-west.” Leliana replied.  
Cullen cleared his throat. “Very well. With this new information provided by Warden Blackwall, we shall continue to look into this matter, and will send you new information as we get it. But this does not change the fact that we must have those documents back. Now. If they reach Venatori hands, it could spell doom for Skyhold and the Inquisition.”  
Josephine nodded in agreement. “We cannot afford to have you all wait here for new information while Goreg is on the loose. You will be leaving tomorrow. Your supplies and steeds are being readied as we speak. I apologize for the intrusion into your personal things, but we have no choice in the matter but to send you all out quickly.” She looked down at a parchment in her hands.  
“Cassandra, Varric and Solas, You will be headed towards Redcliffe. Bull, Sera and Dorian, you will be headed towards the Marshes. Vivienne, Cole and Blackwall will-”  
“No. I’m taking Blackwall with me.”Lavellan interrupted.   
“My lady, we had agreed that you would take one of my men and that Blackwall would join the others.” Cullen interjected.  
“Let Vivienne and Cole travel with your man. I know he can take the best care of them. But I want the Warden with me, now that we have more insight into this Goreg man.” Lavellan was firm.  
“But my lady, if Goreg is found and Blackwall is with you-”  
“if he is found and Blackwall is with anyone, it could compromise the mission if Blackwall is around when Goreg is located.” Leliana interrupted Cullen.  
“Let him stay here, then.”Solas suggested.  
“Absolutely bloody not. You think I could stay here quietly while the rest of you are out there, looking for a possible traitor?”Blackwall growled. “If he’s found and has turned tail I’ll be the one to stick him with my sword, not cower here for fear of my face.”   
“Hear, hear,”Dorian replied, with Sera and Bull backing him up.   
“Enough!” Lavellan ried, her hands raised over the sudden din of argumentative voices. that had arisen.  
“Blackwall comes with me towards Crestwood. That’s final.”

“Really, my lady,” Josephine admonished later in her study, “Do you think that to be a good idea, taking Blackwall with you? Did you see his hands? His eyes? Perhaps it is best that he stays here to rest.”  
“I agree,” Leliana nods. “It could compromise the entire missions if you two happen upon Goreg. He knows Blackwall’s face by now, and that would cause no end of trouble. Not to mention how tired he looks.”  
It was true, and Lavellan knew it. She, too, had seen the dark circles under his eyes, the wrapped bandages on his hands and fingers; he had not tried to hide. She knew too well that he had not slept in his own room for weeks now, preferring the warmth and comfort of the stable. And while she was by no means particularly thrilled to go off with him, she knew that his experience with this fugitive would be invaluable.   
“I know why you are all concerned, but please, have some faith in me. It is several days’ ride to Crestwood, perhaps by then he will have...shaved.” even she knew her suggestion was a weak one and flinched, but continued:  
“Besides, have faith in me. He is a capable warrior, and I am a mage of enough power to defend myself. His face could be a problem, yet we cannot afford to leave him here. And if Goreg is found, it is not to say that we will be the ones to find him; there are three other groups.”  
“At least take another of my men with you, milady.” Cullen pleaded.  
Lavellan shook her head. “I’m afraid not, Cullen. My face is too well known. If Blackwall is to be seen in the company of a hooded figure, it would be one thing. A hooded figure and one of your guards, and it would not take long for anyone to figure out that the Inquisition is there. Blackwall wears helms that hide his face some days. We cannot be too sure that by now the memory of a bearded man in the company of an elf and two others would be strong enough to connect him now. His appearance has changed slightly, which may throw some off.”  
“Changed? How?” Leliana asked, her eyes questioning.   
“He has more silver in his hair, near his temples.” Lavellan shrugged.   
Josephine nodded in agreement, though the other two shook their heads.  
“An interesting observation, lady Lavellan, but hardly a big enough change that it would throw others off of his appearance,” Cullen obviously disapproved.  
Levallan sighed. “Look, if you were faced with the so-called Herald of Andraste, who is an elf with a very distinctive face, would you focus on that elf, or her companions, more?”  
The advisors looked at each other, and Josephine opened her mouth, but Lavellan held up her hand.   
“I’ve heard enough of this. Please, tell me your plans to defend Skyhold, should an attack be launched while I am away.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the road again...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive the weird names that arent compliant with canon!

Five days later, after a grueling pace, Blackwall found himself once again in Crestwood in the company of the Inquisitor, but this time, they were alone.  
His eyes shifted around uncomfortably. It had been quiet riding, with little said between the two travellers. The air between them was still tense after his harsh dismissal of her almost a month ago.  
He shook his head, not liking Crestwood in the slightest. It wasn’t too bad before, with a high lake, dark stormy clouds overhead almost every day, and a general gloomy look and feel.  
Since the Fade Rift had been closed, however, the town had slowly reverted to its old self, a dusty, reddish orange looking place with not a cloud in sight. The lake had retreated considerably, and a ghost town of a drowned village stood, an eerie reminder of the crimes committed here in the name of rescue.  
He didn’t like the way Crestwood looked here at all. It reminded him of things. Things better left under the cover of a high lake, never to be seen or heard of again.  
“There’s an abandoned house at the edge of New Crestwood, according to Harding.” Lavellan said without looking at him. “We’ll go there, and see if anyone is using it. If not, we’ll stay there, under premise of having no coin for an inn.”  
“And if not?” Blackwall asked.  
“We have tents and bedrolls in that case. Should do the trick.”  
Blackwall sighed, longing for a proper bed after the nights of bedrolls and tents and taking shifts in the dead of the winter nights.  
As they rode on, the Inquisitor pulled up her dark hood to cover her face.  
“Remember the story?” she asked, a small smirk playing at her lips.  
Blackwall grunted affirmatively. Of course he did, even if he did think it was a stupid cover.  
The day wore on as they made their way to New Crestwood, sun low in the sky by the time they reached the town proper.  
“Hello there!” a villager called as they rode up.  
Blackwall raised his hand in greeting, glad to see that the absence of undead and demons had drawn these people out of their timid shells.  
He took a deep breath before assuming the accented voice of the character he played.  
“Ho there, good fellow!” Blackwall boomed, and swore he heard Lavellan giggle. “Is there an inn here? My daughter and I seek shelter for the night.”  
The villager shook his head. “No, sir, there isn’t. If it’s shelter you seek, the new Mayor owns a house used for visitors. I’ll take you to her, perhaps she’ll let you stay there!”  
“Thank you, lad, I’d be much obliged!” Blackwall smiled.  
He dismounted, walking forward to shake the man’s hand. “Duskwell’s the name, sir. Merchant is my trade. I’m on a pilgrimage, you see. My daughter lost her sight some years ago, and recently lost her speech. I’m to take her to a shrine some miles from here, hoping that the brothers and sisters of the Chantry there can help her regain her speech.” Blackwall thought the story was shaky, but Lavellan seemed to think it was cover enough for them in their travels: him the loudmouthed merchant, her the unseen, unheard nobody. He disliked being the center of attention, but as he was swiftly learning on this trip, he seemed not to be able to say no to the elf.  
The villager nodded in sympathy as listened to Blackwall’s story. “A shame, sir, a shame. I’m sure the Chantry healers will be able to help. If you’d help her dismount, my Mya will stay with your horses, and I’ll take you to see the Mayor.”  
A teenaged girl curtsied and stepped forward to take the reins as Blackwall walked over to his ‘daughter’ and helped her dismount.  
“It’s all right dearest,” He said softly, but still loud enough to be heard by the villagers, his heart constricting in his chest at the words. “Step down, gently, I’m right here.” Arms outstretched, Lavellan reached for him, and he brought her down into his arms as she dismounted clumsily, his arms wrapping around her, one around her shoulders, the other about her waist. She was so close he could smell a faint scent on her, a scent that soothed him, made him think of happier times. It was pleasant, and if he’d had his wish, she would just stay there, near him, letting him drink her in…  
But no, he mentally shook his head at himself. She was the Inquisitor, and he…he was a fool.

“Well, then, Duskwell,” Mayor Breya says as she closes the door to her home, a smirk on her face. “and how does your daughter fare?”  
Blackwall sits down, relieved that the villagers seemed not to recognize him.  
“Ask her yourself, Breya,” He responds as Levallen pulls her hood down from her face, smiling.  
“Breya, good to see you!” Lavellan smiles and reaches forward to clasp the mayor’s hands.  
“When Harding told me you were coming, but that it would be in great secret, I had the house prepared for you right away. Come, you must eat and drink with me. It’s been too long since the Inquisition came to pay me a visit.” The older woman responded, the corners of her eyes crinkled in a large smile.  
Blackwall ate hungrily and drank deeply as the two women spoke to one another late into the night, engaging each other in all manner of storytelling, which he was glad to be left out of, but enjoyed the happiness on the face of his lady, her laughter and animated storytelling.  
All too soon, the mood changed to serious as Lavellan informed the old woman of the reason for their visit.  
“-and Blackwall can tell you the way this man looks, if you could tell us if you’ve seen a man like that around here.” He heard the Inquisitor say, turning his focus to them both.  
“Aye,” he cleared his throat. “He’s a short man, shorter than you, madam. Bald, but with a great long red beard. Brown eyes, with a burn mark over his left eye. He’s missing the little finger on his right hand. Deep voice. Not easy to talk to, but once you have his trust, he’ll open up easy enough.”  
Breya stopped to stare into the fire for several moments.  
“Yes, we had a man like that pass through here not two weeks prior. But he was not a kind man, as you lady describes him to be. He was rude. Came to my house late into the midnight hours on a sorrel steed, with a large, lumpy package strapped to the saddle, demanding food and shelter. I sent him to Blead, the man you met earlier, who set him up in the house. HE said the package on the horse stunk something terrible, and when he offered to bring it inside, this Goreg man was quite rude, telling him to do no such thing, and to be about his business before slamming the door in poor Blead’s face.  
And the next morning, when Mya Blead went to bring him food, he scared her off as well, telling her to run along and leave him be, lest he claim her for his own.”  
Blackwall sat stunned. The man Breya described was nothing in manner like the Goreg he knew, but if he fit the description…  
“How barbaric!” Lavellan was shocked. “Blackwall?”  
He shook his head. “No, my lady. He was never that coarse when I knew him. A quiet man, as I said. Not easy to talk to, on account of his missing family. He focused on work, not idle talk, and had no eyes for any other than his wife. Many a night he cried himself to sleep in the stables. Once you got to know him, he was a gentle man, one who cared only for the safety of his wife and son.”  
“You did say that he had started to act strangely in the last few weeks with us,” Lavellan pointed out.  
“True enough, but when I say strange, it was like-” he paused in thought. “Like he was sure someone was following him. Always looking over his shoulder, that one. Said he kept seeing something in the shadows, got to the point he wouldn’t sleep in an unlocked room. Said he got a letter from an ailing family member near Storm Coast, and that he’d be leaving soon.”  
Rubbing his beard in deep thought, Blackwall fell silent, while the women looked on, sensing that he had more to say.  
“Come to think of it,” he murmured, “One day Goreg left Skyhold, alone. Came back with a sour look on his face. I asked him what was the matter, and he said he’d went out on a walk. Said he wasn’t feeling well. Asked him why he’d left in the first place, and he said he was out hunting, for food for his trip. I laughed and called him daft. Said the kitchens would provide him with all he needed. Next day, he was gone.”  
“Hunting, near Skyhold? That is odd.” Lavellan mused, staring into the fire.  
They all sat in silence for some time, before a knock came at the door. Lavellan fumbled with her hood, in a rush to pull it over her face. She stood and hastily walked to Blackwall’s side, and his heart nearly pounded out of his chest when she kneeled in front of him, before laying her head on his lap, and reached for his hand, placing it atop her head, positioning herself as if she had fallen asleep at his feet, taking a moment to let her breathing deepen.  
Breya opened the door at Blackwall’s nod, his hand on Lavellan’s hood, his thumb stroking back and forth over the soft fabric impulsively.  
it was Mya Blead, who curtsied and peered inside the house at the strangers in the village.  
Blackwall smiled at her, putting his finger to his lips.  
“Pardon me, lady Mayor, but the fire’s been built for quite some time now. It’s gone eleven, and the horses were stabled and fed hours ago.” She squeaked.  
“Ah, dear me, how time flies!” Breya smiled. “Mister Duskwell here was telling me news of the outside world, and much about his business. It appears we’ve gotten lost in idle chatter.”  
“If it’s that late, then, it’s time to get my daughter into a warm bed. Come on, dearest, let’s go.”  
Blackwall moved his hand to Lavellan’s shoulder, shaking her gently.  
She still pretended to be asleep, so Blackwall sighed and shifted in his chair, so that he could stand without dropping her head on the floor.  
He stooped down and hoisted the Inquisitor into his arms, carrying her to the door.  
“Lead the way, young lass,” He said in his heavily accented voice. “Good night, lady Mayor, and thank you for your hospitality.” Nodding his head at Breya one last time, he followed Mya across the village, past a newly built stable near what he assumed was the Blead homestead, on account of her father standing in the doorway with a lantern in his hands, waving good night at them as they trudged to the abandoned house.  
Mya pushed the door open for him, and Blackwall went in sideways, so as not to bang Lavellan’s head on the door jamb.  
“‘night, lass. Here’s a coin for you and your father.” He reached into one pocket quickly and pulled out a golden coin, handing it to the young girl.  
She again curtsied and waved goodnight, and closed the door behind her as Blackwall bent down to deposit a sleeping Lavellan onto the bed nearest the fireplace.  
She didn’t stir was he placed her down, but as he stood, he caught her open eyes on his.  
He made his way to the door and locked it, picking up his pack, which was standing near the door, and walked over to the other bed in the small house, placing his pack down and starting to rummage through it.  
“Convincing performance, my lady,” Blackwall said as he pulled out a plain white tunic and knee-length breeches.  
He heard a chuckle behind him, smiled to himself and began to disrobe with his back turned towards Lavellan, who, at the moment she saw his padded tunic slide off of his shoulders, had felt her smart response die in her throat, captivated by his tanned skin, roped with muscle and pale scars that criss crossed his body.  
“Blackwall?” Lavellan murmured.  
“Aye my lady?”  
“Why haven’t you been sleeping in the keep?”  
He turned to face her, shirtless, hands wrapped in bandages. He made a sight in the glow from the fire, a sight that Lavellan wasn’t keen on changing any time soon.  
Without a word, Blackwall walked to her bedside and knelt in front of it. Lavellan swore her heart was beating so loudly that he could probably hear it, if only he listened hard.  
“My lady…” he trailed off, shaking his head.  
She reached out to gently touch his bandaged hands.  
“How did you get these?”  
He made a strangled noise in his throat, and closed his eyes.  
“Why have you been avoiding me?” she whispered. 

She had taken him aback with the first question. Disarmed him with the second, and was killing him with the third.  
In short, he felt his heart stir whenever he thought of her. After having spent months around her, as a friend and advisor, she was uncovering parts of him long dead and buried, for his good and the good of others.  
So he had to stop it, stamp it out, whatever it took to keep his heart from tightening in his chest whenever he spoke to her.  
Even now, a hidden part of him screamed out in his head, telling him to take her hands and...Maker.  
This had to stop.  
“My lady. Please. If I tell you the answers will you forget all of this? Will you leave me in peace and focus on those that need you?”  
She nodded, and he took a deep breath.  
“I don’t sleep in the keep because you’ll find me there. No, no questions.” he held up his hand as Lavellan opened her mouth.  
“The stables...are home to me. I’m a battered old soldier, my lady. I don’t belong in grand keeps with a room to myself. I’ve slept in barracks or stables or a bedroll under a tent most nights of my life. It’s my home. Not in the keep with-with the others and-” his voice faltered “and with you.”  
Every man deserves a place to call his home. You have yours. I have mine. I’m at peace there. Once this war is over, I’ll return to my life of roaming the land, looking for men to join the Grey Wardens. And if I lay my head in a tent, in a bed or on nothing but hay, I’ll have my home. I don’t belong in this world of yours, my lady.”  
Something in his chest ached, screamed out at him as he said those words, but he willed them to be silent. He had to do this.  
“As for these,” he held up his hands, “They’re what happen when you don’t pay attention when woodcarving. When you carve with no plan in mind. You don’t see the knots in the wood that will turn your knife astray until it’s too late. And by then, well.” A ghost of a smile braced his lips, and he saw Lavellan smile as well.  
He turned his face towards the ceiling, willing all his strength to answer her last question. It would be hard, but then again, nothing in his life was hard, and-  
He felt her hand on his cheek and froze.  
“My lady,” he warned, but she kept her hand here, her thumb stroking gently back and forth, just as his had done on her head earlier this evening. Still, he made no move to stop her, but only stared at her hard.  
You’re not making this easy, he thought, his heart aching and pounding in his chest, his stomach in knots and mind screaming at him.  
“You say you don’t belong,” Lavellan watched his face, but would not meet his eyes.  
“You’re wrong, you know. You belong, and have a right to belong, as much as any of us do.”  
He closed his eyes, the screaming in his head stopping, the knots in his stomach easing as he listened, and even his heart stopped hurting, instead he allowed himself to feel for the first time in a very long time.  
“You think i belong?” He whispered, not opening his eyes.  
“I know you belong,” She said, smiling.  
“You belong, Gordon Blackwall.”  
His eyes snapped open and he suddenly wrenched her hand from his face, his blue-grey eyes as hard and as cold as steel.  
“Do not,” he hissed, “Call me that.”  
Abruptly, he stood and stalked over to the door, unlocking it and stepping outside, slamming the door behind him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Closing in...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive the way the chapter ended last time! Angst husband doesnt get that nickname for nothing, but i promise happiness is in store for him.

The next morning dawned clear and cold, the sun bright in the sky. But indoors it was as gloomy as it had ever been when Crestwood was under undead assault. Lavellan lay in bed, numb to the world, after having slept very little. She had cried herself to sleep late in the night, knowing without a doubt that she had somehow managed to build up more walls around Blackwall than ever before, and that it would take nothing short of a miracle to knock them all down again.   
She looked over at his bed, still made, his clothes draped on it just as he had left them last night. She supposed she should bring them to him, he had to be freezing in nothing but a thin tunic and breeches, but could not make herself move.  
The door opened and she wanted to call out for him, but didn’t.   
Lavellan watched as his tall figure stalked across the floor to his bed and began to dress. Gone were the stirrings in her of seeing him half naked, instead, knots and a sick feeling invaded her stomach, and her heart felt as if it was being wrenched out of her chest.   
“Time to get up, my lady.” Blackwall grumbled, as if nothing had happened last night.  
She blinked at him with bleary eyes. IF he turned and saw her, she was sure he would notice that she had been crying. So instead, she got up and threw her cloak about her shoulders, pulling the hood up, already assuming her role of the blind, mute daughter.  
Her mind wandered, wondered why he kept referring to himself as old, when in truth, he was probably only a decade or so older than herself.   
It was just another thing about his behavior recently that she couldn’t understand.  
“Time to go,” She murmured. 

They had been riding most of the day, in the direction Goreg was last seen heading towards. The sun was starting to dip lower and lower towards the horizon when Blackwall reigned in his horse and dismounted.  
“What is it?” Lavellan asked, dismounting swiftly. “What do you see?”  
Blackwall knelt in the grass, hand splayed and touching something. “Tracks,” he replied.   
Lavellan walked over, pulling her staff from the saddlebag it was stored in, and kept watch as Blackwall continued to examine the track.   
“There’s more ahead,” he said as he raised his gaze to look at her. She nodded and went back to the horses, grabbing both of the reins and walking behind Blackwall with the horses.   
After some time of slow going, He stopped short.   
“Look,” he whispered to her, pointing.   
Ahead of them in the road lay a pack. They approached it carefully, and when they came upon it, Lavellan covered her nose. It stank terribly, but not strongly, as if it had been close to something that smelled far worse.  
Inside of the pack was a bit of food, and a pouch filled with coins. The mage and the warrior looked at each other, silently nodding.   
This was something. Something important.  
“Keep going. More tracks,” Blackwall gestured towards the ground.  
By nightfall, they had reached a large outcropping of rock that formed a natural cave.   
The tracks led towards it, so Lavellan hoisted her staff, and Blackwall drew his sword, grabbing a large shield from his saddlebag.  
He went first into the cave, and from the moment he stepped inside, something reeked terribly. He gagged, and Lavellan didn’t fare much better, having a more sensitive nose than he did.  
“What is that?” She hissed softly.  
“That,” Blackwall replied, “Is a decomposing body.”   
They ventured further into the cave, and the smell got worse and worse, until finally, towards the side of the cave wall, they came across a large, stained bundle. Flies flew all around it, and Lavellan visibly blanched.   
It was the size and shape of a humanoid creature. She stepped backwards.  
“Blackwall,” she muttered, “I don’t like this.”  
He shook his head. “Neither do I, my lady.”   
Slowly, he approached the bundle, and Lavellan turned away as he knelt beside it and began to cut through the wrappings.  
She heard him hiss a breath of air, and stand abruptly.   
He walked past her, towards the mouth of the cave, and towards the horses.  
“Blackwall.” She hissed. “What is it? Who is it, what’s wrong?”  
He shook his head, grabbing the horses and walking away with them.  
“I’ll be back. Stay hidden. Don’t look.”

Blackwall was only gone a short time, but when he returned, it was without the horses.   
She welcomed him back curtly, quite put out that he had left in such a way.  
He stared into the cave, unseeing.   
“I don’t want to go back in there.” Was his only remark at first.   
“Why, what happened?” Lavellan was past worried at this point.  
“It was Goreg. And by the looks of it, he’s been dead quite some time.”  
She covered her mouth in shock.   
“Too long gone to have been the man Breya spoke to. He deserves a proper burial, but we can’t give him that. If we do, they’ll know we’re here.” He looked over his shoulder towards the outside.  
“Who will know?” Lavellan wasn’t sure she wanted the answer.  
“Whoever killed him. They'll be back for this,” Blackwall replied, raising his hand, which held the pouch full of coins.  
Lavellan nodded. “You hid the horses. are they near?”  
“I would imagine. Based on travel times and how long it’s been since Breya last saw the man. We’re a five day’s journey from the nearest village. He set out, dropped his package at the first spot he found, and kept on walking. There;s more tracks outside that go off towards the south. But once he gets there, he’ll need these. He won’t have them, and will be forced to retrace his steps.”  
“Which would take him to every stop he made, including here.” Lavellan bit her lip and then swore.  
“It was two weeks ago that Breya saw him. Which leaves precious little time. We have to stay here and wait till he comes back” Blackwall started walking towards the body.  
“But won’t he see the cut in the fabric and see we’ve been here?” she followed after him, pointedly ignoring the aforementioned body.   
“Fuck,” Blackwall stopped and swore. “I didn’t think of that.”  
“We’ll have to be quick when he gets here then,” She said firmly.  
“Come on, back here. There’s a bend in the cave, we can hide inside while we wait.” Blackwall ducked into the curved opening, and disappeared from sight.

They waited several hours in silence, when a shuffling sound could be heard from the mouth of the cave. They paused to look at each other as they hefted their weapons.   
Soon, a ripping sound could be heard.   
Lavellan blanched, and Blackwall paled as well. He crept towards the curve in the cave, peering out, before silently moving right back inside.  
“Wolf,” He whispered next to her. She shivered at the mental images and tried to remain silent.  
Somehow, she had dozed off, because the next thing she knew, Blackwall was shifting next to her, and pressing his hand to his lips.   
“Voices” he mouthed.   
They listened as the voices got closer and closer.  
“-has to be here, it’s the only place left.”   
Blackwall started. “That’s Goreg’s voice.” he murmured.  
“Unless you dropped it on the road.” Another voice drawled impatiently.   
“I’m sure I didn’t,” Goreg replied. “There. There’s the body.”  
“It’s been desecrated!” The other voice drawled in shock.   
“Animals. Look here, an arm’s missing. Torn off. The fabric is ripped up, too.”  
“Not this end.” Another voice chimed in. “It’s been cut.”  
“Villagers?” Goreg asked.  
“Perhaps. But I think we should-”  
Just then, a cry could be heard coming from outside.  
“What?” a man yelled back. A pause.  
“They’ve found horse tracks. a pair of them.”  
“Shit. Which way?” Goreg swore.  
“Hey, Tomas! Which way?” the other man yelled back.   
He paused before relaying the news to Goreg and the drawling man.   
“They can’t tell if the tracks are coming or going, We’ve torn up the area too much. I say it’s just villagers.”  
“Bugger that,” The drawling man said. “We fan out and start searching. Whoever it is may be trying to track down the papers.”  
The yelling man relayed the message, and Blackwall held up five fingers.  
Lavellan nodded. so far, they had heard four voices, and an order to fan out, which meant at least five people, though it was most likely more.  
The voices continued to retreat towards the cave, making Blackwall think that he would be able to get the jump on his foes, when the drawling man chimed in.  
“Wait, there's more to the cave, back there.”   
The footsteps paused.   
“Go check it out but be quick about it. We’ll be with the rest of the men.” Goreg said, and the footsteps resumed in growing farther away.  
“Check it out yourself, they say. Huh. LAst time I take orders from bandits. Venatori take orders from no one.” the man grumbled to himself as he rounded the corner, only to meet a swift end at the end of Blackwall’s blade.  
“Check his pockets for the papers.” Lavellan whispered.   
Blackwall quickly searched for the papers, and found them hidden in a pouch inside the man’s long robe.   
“Here,” Blackwall whispered, handing the papers over. She quickly stowed them away in her tunic, hidden from sight.  
“We wait to get the drop on them,” Blackwall murmured, It was unlike him to not charge into battle, but Lavellan trusted the Warden’s instincts.  
She cockedher head slightly. “Blackwall. How far does this cave go?”  
He turned to look past her. “Not sure. Why?”  
She shook her head. “Nothing, just. Thought I heard something.”  
It was several minutes before footsteps approached the cave again, and it was a pair of them.   
“Hey, Mical!” Goreg yelled. “Find anything?”  
Blackwall stood with his sword at the ready, and Lavellan held her staff at the ready, a stun spell charged up and ready to go.  
“Mical!” Goreg yelled again, his voice getting closer.  
Another voice chimed in, “I don’t think we’re alone in here.” right as they turned the corner, only to be faced with two very deadly members of the Inquisition and one very effective stun spell, followed shortly thereafter by one even more effective broadsword.  
As he breathed his last breath and fell to the ground, the man who spoke and looked like Goreg started to shimmer, and then his body seemed to tremble, right before his face morphed to that of an older, rougher looking man with long blonde hair.   
“Shapeshifter?” Blackwall asked, only to be met with a shrug.  
“We could take the rest of them out, right Blackwall?” Lavellan asked.  
“Depends on how many there are. With two, and a surprise attack on our side, we could easily take them.”  
Suddenly, Lavellan felt a hand wrap around her mouth from behind.  
“You mean with one,” A nasty voice sounded in her ear as a knife pressed against her throat and began to cut.  
With her last breath, Lavellan tried to scream.  
The last thing she felt was the knife drag across her throat, cutting painfully into her flesh.  
The last thing she saw was Blackwall whirling around.  
And the last thing she heard as her eyes went dark and her body began to fall, was her beloved Blackwall, screaming her name.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fever dreams...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *runs and hides*

“Water” Something wheezed. A sharp, excruciating pain resided in her throat.   
“Water.” It wheezed louder. There was no reply.  
“Water, please,” It hurt, the wheezing. “Water.”  
She couldn’t see.   
The world turned on its side several times, the wheezing voice pleading for water over and over, the pain getting worse and worse.   
She felt herself walking, stumbling, and then felt something hard beneath her.   
A door?   
Doors open.   
“Open” The voice wheezed. “Open.”   
Finally, she was able to wrench the door open, with that dreadful wheezing voice following her the entire time. Tears rolled down her face, but she couldn’t feel them.   
A bear?   
“Water,” The wheezing said. “Water.”   
The bear ran towards her. The world began to slide to the left.   
No.   
A man.   
Catching her.  
“Blackwall,” She wheezed.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lavellan awakes...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have some fluff to heal your hearts.

Lavellan opened her eyes to stare at a stone ceiling. She lay there for quite some time, gazing tiredly at the stone above her.  
She didn’t feel like she was dead. The Veil felt different from this. She remembered the wheezing voice, and shuddered.   
Something below her stirred, and it startled her.  
She tried to move, but found herself pinned on both sides.  
She tried to look down, but it hurt too much. Instead, she began to crane her neck to each side, trying valiantly to see what was pinning her, to no avail.  
Her arms were pinned too, by something heavy and soft and warm, but her hands could still move somewhat.   
She began to move her hands this way and that, until finally she felt something soft and hairy beneath her.   
Something in her memory flashed. A bear? sliding. No. A man. Catching her. Skin. A voice.  
Blackwall.  
His arms were on either side of her, clasped together on her middle, holding her upright and steady.  
His beard tickled the top of her head.  
She tried to speak but her throat was dry.   
So Lavellan started to struggle, until she broke free of his grasp and rolled to her side.  
She heard him grunt and felt him roll over behind her, his front to her back, and she wiggled and squirmed some more, finding it hard to move in any direction without pain.  
Desperately, she tried to kick behind her, trying to get enough momentum going to continue to wriggle towards the side of the bed.  
She heard a sigh behind her, and heard him moan her name softly in his sleep.   
Finally, she was able to speak, having swallowed repeatedly.  
“Blackwall,” the wheezing voice was back. She dimly registered it as her own.  
“Blackwall.”  
He mumbled her name in his sleep in response.   
With more wriggling, she was able to roll over to face the man.   
“Blackwall”   
His eyes flew open to meet hers.   
He bolted upright in bed, looking at her.  
“My lady?” He breathed.  
“Blackwall,” she croaked out. “Water.”  
He scrambled out of bed, reaching for the jug next to the bed, pouring her a glass before returning, propping her slim body up with one large hand, prompting her to drink slowly as he tipped the glass to her mouth.  
She drank slowly but deeply, feeling relieved and not as panicked.   
“Maker,” Blackwall breathed, tears flowing down from his eyes. “You’re awake.”  
“Yes,” She whispered. “Awake.”  
She felt a huge force hit her as Blackwall enveloped her in an embrace like she’d just returned from the dead.  
Maybe she had.  
He had climbed back on the bed next to her and lifted her into his lap, his hands on her shoulders and hugging her close to him, resting his chin on her head, reaching up to smooth her hair.  
Lavellan was still quite bewildered, but this was a nice change to the distance she had come to expect.  
He was talking non stop. She wasn't listening until she heard him say it.  
“-awake, love. Everyone has been so worried, I’ve got to tell Cassan-” He broke off to turn his head towards the door.  
“-Cassandra!” he yelled.  
Running footsteps and the Cassandra burst into the room.  
“What is it? Is she-” the woman stopped, in awe of what she saw.  
“Awake.” Lavellan croaked, her voice muffled by Blackwall’s arms.   
Her eyes wide and watery, Cassandra ran out of the room yelling.   
Within minutes, Cullen, Josephine, Leliana, Bull, Dorian and Cassandra had burst in, Excitedly yelling about the rest of them being on the way.  
They were greeting to the sight of a very confused looking Lavellan, wrapped up in Blackwall’s arms on the big bed in her quarters.   
Blackwall was openly crying in joy, holding her close and rocking her gently, murmuring something about never leaving her again, while the rest crowded around the bed, Josephine being the first to hop on the bed next to her and hold her free hand that wasn’t entwined with Blackwall’s.  
Soon her entire inner circle was piled on the bed, save for Bull, who was far too large, what with his expansive horns, and there wasn’t a dry eye in the room, except for Lavellan, who insisted she was fine, and where was more water, please?  
They kept cold water poured for her, and maidservants brought up more pitchers, and ale, under instruction of Bull, and informed her that she had been asleep for the better part of a month. Blackwall finally stopped crying and suggested they not got into details yet, and soon, everyone was trickling out, wishing her well and expressing how relieved they were that she had awoken.  
Overwhelmed and confused, Lavellan finally fell back asleep as Dorian and Blackwall sat on either side of her, Blackwall’s large frame a support for her sleeping one to lean on, and Dorian clasping her free hand in both of his.  
The two men stayed up talking long into the night, until the sun began to peek up over the mountains, when Blackwall finally fell asleep as well, and Dorian chuckled to himself, satisfied that the Inquisitor was well taken care of.

Three weeks had passed, bringing several letters from Mayor Breya, who kept in correspondence with Leliana about Lavellan’s recovery.  
In the weeks, Lavellan had been surrounded by doctors and healers of all kinds, who monitored her health. She was told that the scar on her neck may never truly heal, but was also informed that she should be able to make a full recovery besides that.  
The following month was a whirlwind of activity, with the darkspawn and Venatori seeming to hole up for the rest of the winter months, which allowed Skyhold to spend extra time and money on repairs around the keep and it’s grounds.  
She was so busy with a myriad of tasks, that she had no time for any company, which put no one out, except Blackwall, who was rather visibly jealous over her attentions.  
He was able to corner her late on night as she returned to her quarters, eager to speak with her.  
“My lady,” He lowered his eyes in respect.   
“Blackwall,” Lavellan siad, unsmiling. She was so, so tired.  
“I’ve-I’ve come to ask you some questions.” he started. “How much do you remember about that night?”  
Lavellan cocked her head. “Everything up to the knife at my throat. Why?”  
“Do you remember the night before.” It wasn’t a question.   
Lavellan sighed. She had tried so hard to push it from her mind, and yet…  
“Yes.”  
“Then I’ve come to ask your forgiveness, lady Inquisitor.” Blackwall said, bowing at the waist.  
“Blackwall, please,now is not the time. It’s gone three, and we both need to sleep.” she sighed heavily, trying to disguise a yawn.  
“My lady, please. It is late, yes, but also far too late for an apology on my part. I should have said so sooner.”  
“Blackwall, of course I forgive you. I don’t understand your actions, but I do forgive you.”  
Lavellan leaned against her door heavily, trying to find the strength to remain standing.  
“Then I’ll ask one last question of you, and be on my way,” a hint of a smile graced his lips.  
“Will you forgive me again, my lady?”  
“Forgive you for what?” She asked curiously.  
He did not respond. Instead he surged forward, putting both hands on either side of her, braced against the door, bringing himself close to her body.   
Slowly, he dropped his head towards hers until his forehead met hers, and then used his nose to nuzzle against her soft skin.  
Finally, he leaned in and kissed her softly, sweetly, on the cheek.  
“For this,” he murmured against her skin, before moving on to kiss her other cheek.  
“And this,” He drew back one last time, his blue-grey eyes meeting hers as she stood frozen against her door.   
“And this,” he breathed as he leaned in to kiss her on the lips, firm and unyielding, the press of his body against hers feeling right to her in this moment, making her feel alive and awake again.   
He moved his lips against hers slightly, before pulling away, though she tried to follow him.  
Gently caressing her temple with a knuckle, he brushed her hair away from her face.  
“Good night, my lady,”  
And then he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok people. Last chapter is coming up, and it earns its Explicit rating. If that doesnt float your boat, then end the story with this chapter and any headcanon you wish!   
> If lemons are what youre here for, read on...


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter. There be lemons ahead, please turn back now if you dont want to read smut.

The next several days, Lavellan didn;t see Blackwall anywhere. She made sure to keep some time open, and lingered outside her door at night, even lingered outside of his door one night, hoping to catch him to discuss...things.  
Finally, late one night, she wandered down to the grounds, taking a stroll before bed, when she saw a familiar shape close the doors to the stable.   
Of course he was there, she realized. He had once told her that the stables were more home to him than the keep would ever be.   
Smiling, she walked faster towards the warmth of the building.

He heard the doors creak open and felt his heart pound in his chest. She was here.   
A blanket draped over his shoulders against the cold as he fed a black steed a sugar cube and a carrot.   
He heard footsteps, and could smell her perfumes, as if she had recently bathed. The thought stirred something inside of him, which h quickly stamped down.  
“He seems to like you,” She said.  
“He ought to,” he replied, “I've fed him enough treats, I ought to be his closest friend.”   
Lavellan stepped forward to pet the large beast.  
“Is this the horse, then?”  
Blackwall stroked the horse’s mane.   
“Aye,”  
This was the horse that Blackwall had frantically called, his hand over the neck wound in his lady’s flesh, trying to stop the bleeding.   
Somehow, both horses had heard him, though he didn't know how. Perhaps Andraste smiled upon them that night.   
He had lifted the frail form of Lavellan in his arms, trying to staunch the flow of blood with a bandage from his hand, and lifted her onto the horse, mounting behind her and riding harder than he had ever ridden in his life, nearly killing the poor beast in the process.   
When he had finally galloped up to the MAyor’s house, he was relieved to see Harding and small company of men camped in the village.   
Cullen, ever the worrywart, had sent them after the Inquisitor to make sure nothing happened to her.  
Blackwall had burst into Breya’s house, shouting for a doctor as he placed her limp form on the nearest flat surface, covered in her blood. When a novice was found in the company, Blackwall finally left her fate in hands others than his, never leaving her side as she was cleaned and stitched, the novice in awe of the wound, saying that any deeper the cut, or any slower the horse, and she would have perished.   
Bringing himself back into the present, Blackwall stroked the horse;s mane again, dragging his hand closer to hers.   
She gently reached out and grabbed it, holding it in her smaller hand for a moment.   
They met each other's gaze, and something changed.   
Lavellan stepped forward, pulling him with her, and reached up on her toes as he leaned down, both meeting each other in a slow, passionate kiss. She brought her body close to his, and moved her hands to cup his face. His hands tangled in her hair, pulling gently to tilt her head up towards him more, giving greater access to her as their lips moved against each others .  
Eager to deepen the kiss, Blackwall had just opened his mouth and touched his tongue to her lips with a soft groan, when the horse next to them snorted and whinnied, as if to say, not here.  
As Lavellan pulled away from him, a bashful smile on her face, Blackwall chuckled, turning red under his beard.  
She didn’t let go of his hands, and her body was still in close proximity to his.  
“Blackwall,” She murmured. “Take me upstairs.”

As the door to her large room closed, Lavellan was suddenly nervous. Blackwall had his back turned to her, visibly steeling himself.   
He turned and met her eyes, a slow smile crossing his features as he stepped closer to the Dalish woman before him.  
This time, as he bent down to kiss her, there was nothing slow about it. IT had been many years since his last foray into sex, and many more since he had opened his heart to another. He tugged on her hand once again, breaking from her lips to plant gentle kisses along her neck, dragging his tongue up and down the soft column. He was gentle and paid special attention to her scar, which had her writhing in his arms, gasping for air and clutching at him as if she was drowning,  
He smiled against her neck as she moaned his name, trailing kisses back up to her face, kissing her again on the lips, this time attacking her with his tongue eagerly, and her response to his kiss made his heart pound faster in his chest.   
She was totally open and receptive to his attentions, her hands roaming about in his hair, and up and down his back, running her nails against his tunic gently and he kissed her.  
She opened her mouth to him and moaned as their tongues intertwined and slid against one another.  
His hands started to travel, one cupping her face as they kissed, and the other trailing gently down her neck, to her clothed breasts, rubbing gently and kneading the soft flesh beneath her tunic. Lavellan gasped when he pinched a stiffened nipple with his fingers, and arched her back into him as he growled with pleasure, loving the feel of her slowly unravelling against him, his own growing hardness pressed against her thigh.  
Blackwall slowly backed the Inquisitor against her large bed, picking her up and gently laying her down on it, following hr on, straddling her and kissing his way up from her stomach to her lips, his hands under her tunic, slowly unbuttoning it and pulling it with him, kissing the exposed skin there.   
When he had finally gotten it off, he grinned against her cheek as his large hands began to roam across her breasts, teasing and kneading them, rolling he nipples between his fingers, and flicking them gently to watch her jump.  
“Oh, Blackwall,” Lavellan moaned, “Please don’t stop.”  
He smiled and lowered himself across her body, settling in so that his face was level with her breasts.  
“Imagine how much you’d like it if this was my mouth,” He growled against her ribcage.   
“I’d rather not imagine,” she gasped.   
“Naughty girl,” he chuckled as he took one nipple in his mouth and began to lick and suck, teasing her and watching as she wiggled against him, her eyes closed and head thrown back in pleasure, he mouth open, lips swollen and hands fisting in his hair.  
He growled as he switched to her neglected breast, bucking his hips against her, which she met by writhing against him. He groaned in response, and plunged his hand down her breeches, searching for the buttons without ever taking his mouth off of her.  
She rocked her hips, trying to help him, when he finally took his mouth off of hers long enough to tell her to lift her hips, and then he began sliding her breeches off, while he hands were busying themselves in his hair.   
When she was naked before him, he took his time to take in every inch of her body, and made sure that whenever she seemed nervous, he lavished her with kisses and soft bites and licks across her soft skin.  
“Blackwall,” she gasped as he kissed her hip bone, biting down enough to make her arch.  
“Please”  
“Please?” he responded, grinning from ear to ear.   
“I want to see you, too,” She whimpered as he began to lick down herhipbone.  
Blackwall paused. He had been so enveloped in her that he hadn’t even undressed. Laughing, he began to unbutton his padded tunic, stripping it off for her to showcase his muscular torso, watching her bite her lip.   
Lavellan’s hands came up and began to trace the planes of his torso, rubbing his nipples in a similar way he had with hers, earning a contented sigh from the large man.  
Once she had coaxed all of his clothes off of him, and they lay intertwined, she began her exploration of his body, rolling him over and straddling him, much like he had done with her, and kisses and bit all over him as well. His hands rested on her hips, thrusting up against her every time she hit a spot that made him gasp.   
Finally, she kissed down to this cock, hard and throbbing for her as her soft lips met the velvet skin there. He moaned her name as she placed gentle kisses on the tip, and then trailed them down the shaft and back up again, and his eyes rolled back and he thought he was dying as her mouth closed around the head of his cock, his hands fisten in her hair, taking all the self control her hand not to thrust wildly into her mouth.  
After several minutes of this sweet torture, he pulled her off of him and hauled her up his body, kissing her mouth with renewed fervor.  
“Remind me one day to return that favor,” He rasped in her ear as he hands dipped into her wetness.   
She gasped and ground against his hand, searching for pressure right on that spot that drove her wild. He moved his fingers over her clit and began to rub in circles.  
“Is this what you want?” He asked, his voice deep and eyes dark with lust.   
She moaned wordlessly in response, grinding against his hand, only to whimper when he removed it to lick her juices off of his fingers.   
He returned them to her wetness, plunging one finger deep inside of her, and slowly pumping in and out.  
“or is this what you want?” he grinned against her shoulder as she arched and cried out.  
Lavellen was in no position to be giving answers, so she just nodded frantically instead.  
“Would you like both?” He asked, his voice laced with the sweet promise of sin.  
“Yes,” she cried as he added another finger inside of her.   
Blackwall moaned and praised her “Good girl. roll over for me.”   
She rolled over onto her stomach, and spread her legs for him. He positioned himself between her lips and began to thrust slowly, the head of his cock hitting her clit and causing her to cry out each time.   
“Blackwall,” she moaned, and began to chant his name, she was so close.   
But he stopped all too soon. He was far too close to his release, and he hadn't even been inside her yet.  
“Please, Blackwall,” Lavellan keened, writhing under him and bucking her hips.  
“One last time for me, roll over.” He grunted, holding himself in his hand tightly, trying to make this last for them both.  
She did as she was told, and he wasted no time in pulling her hips up, so that she rested on all fours as he pressed into her from behind.   
“Is this all right?”He whispered in her ear.  
“Yes, yes please,” She panted.  
Kissing her shoulder once, he reared back on his knees and rubbed her perfect ass, taking his time to feel how soft and warm she was, and then following it up by spanking her, gently at first, but harder and faster as her cries got louder, unti she was a quivering mess beneath him.   
“Please!” She cried, and he didn't need to be told twice.  
He lined himself up, and slowly pushed inside of her tight, wet heat, groaning at the sensation.   
“Yes~” she cried out as he finally stopped deep inside of her, stretching her fully and filling her completely.   
“Oh, love,” He moaned as he began to move inside of her.   
She whimpered in response.  
He began thrusting slowly at first, taking his time with the strokes, needing to feel her against the sweet spot right below the head of this cock, but soon began speeding up, until the room was filled with moans and the sound of skin on skin.  
He could feel her muscles tightening around his shaft, and it elicited another moan from him.  
“Maker, i’m close,”He panted. “I want you to touch yourself for me, can you do that?”  
Lavellan nodded, her cries of pleasure as he thrust into her too late to stop.  
He made a noise deep in his throat that made her shiver, and she began to stroke herself like he had asked.   
They were both so close, and knew it.  
Harder and harder he thrust into her, and more frantically she stroked herself, until finally her muscles clenched for one last time, and she was coming undone around him with a wordless cry.   
The feel of her muscles was enough to send him over the edge as well, and he came with a long, low growl, thrusting erratically into her as he spilled himself deep inside her heat.  
As they both came down and collapsed next to each other, he wrapped his arms around her and gently kissed the back of her neck, both of them soon falling into a deep, satisfied sleep.

It was sometime in the night that Blackwall woke up to an unfamiliar tugging in his hair.   
“What are you doing, love?” He grunted groggily. He heard a giggle next to him.  
“Braiding your hair. But only a little.” His lady replied next to him.  
“It’s gotten quite long, hasn’t it?” He mused.   
He felt her nod behind him and rolled over, tugging his hair gently from her fingers.  
“I suppose this mean I’m to court you properly now, isn’t it?” He chuckled.  
“If you’d like to, I wouldn't protest.” Lavellan smiled wide at him,blushing.  
“Well, then, I suppose I could be persuaded to court you like a proper gentleman. But that would mean no late night liaisons in the stables.”  
“Who said I wanted you to court me like a proper man” She laughed. “Just be yourself.”  
“I plan to be,” He replied, kissing her nose.  
She smiled and kissed down his cheek, to his neck, and he laid back, eyes closed, enjoying the soft feel of her lips when a knock came at the door.  
“Blackwall. I know you’re in there.”   
“Shit,” he swore and jumped out of bed, hastily dressing, while looking at his lady.  
“Sorry love, won’t be long.”   
She smiled and snuggled back in bed, closing her eyes.  
Blackwall opened the door to her chambers and found Bull waiting on him.  
“What do you want?”he hissed at the Qunari.  
Bull looked down at him with a smirk on his face.  
“To gloat, what else.” The large man smirked.  
“How’d you know I was in there?” Blackwall hissed.  
Bull laughed. “Half the castle knows you’re in there, you bastard.”  
“Half the castle meaning you, Dorian and Sera, and by extension every serving girl in the place because none of you can keep your mouths shut,” Blackwall grumbled.   
Bull shrugged. “It’s the only half that matters. and Andraste’s tits, are those braids in your hair?”  
“Might be.” Blackwall shrugged. “What’s the meaning of this, I have a bed and a woman to be getting back to.”  
“As I said, I came to gloat.”  
“Well, you can gloat tomorrow as much as you want, if you’ll just bugger off now, I’d like to get back to sleep.” Blackwall turned to open the door.  
“Oh mate, you won’t be sleeping any time soon.” Bull’s laugh echoed down the stairs as Blackwall went back inside and locked the door, stripped and then joining Lavellan back in bed.  
She had fallen asleep, and stirred when the bed dipped with his weight and he wrapped his arms around her,   
“Blackwall,” she cooed sleepily.  
“Yes, love,” he said, kissing her temple. “It’s me.”  
Somewhere in his head as he fell asleep, he could hear her words echo in his ears:  
“Just be yourself.” His stomach churned, but he was determined to keep it up as long as he could. He had her now, and there was nothing he wanted to do to lose her. A voice in his head told him to tell her, but his rebuttal was that she wanted Blackwall, not- not him.   
“As long as you love me,” he murmured in his sleep, “It doesn’t matter who I am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaaaah, i just had to stick some Revelations angst in there for you! But of course we all knows how that ends up , so theres no need to worry!   
> Possibly planning a post-Revelations sequel to this, but only time will tell.   
> I hope you enjoyed!! Thanks for reading! <3


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